


The things you learn along the way

by ravelqueen



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Mentioned Ali al-Saachez, Mentioned Lockon Stratos, Wistful, i love setsuna a lot ok don't judge me, is it angst if nobody's crying?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8879479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravelqueen/pseuds/ravelqueen
Summary: Setsuna has learned many things from many people.   They were given over to the rescue services quickly enough. He looked out of the window and could see the way the adults, or older teenagers got carted off in dark, armoured vans instead. He bit his tongue, made himself smaller, made his eyes as big, as they could go and delivered a quick punch to the boy next to him, so that instead of hatred there were tears in his eyes the next time one of their “rescuers” looked.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [effectaffect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/effectaffect/gifts).



> Hello dear yuletide recipient!
> 
> Sadly I suck at mission fic, so instead have some Setsuna character study, because he's my favourite. I hope you like it, even with the slighty rambly nature of it - I read your letter and for some reason this self-indulgent, wistful idea of snapshots of Setsuna through the years came to me and wouldn't let go.

**_1\. Like old friends_ **

 

The soldiers from Azahdistan were horrified by the child soldiers when they surrendered. They'd found the adults in their small villages, shot dead. He could see the shock in their eyes, the shade of it in their smiles. Shortly before they got to them, he'd told everyone to drop their weapons, their knives, to look as helpless and innocent as possible.

He'd been one of the oldest by then – not age, maybe, but experience - so everyone had obeyed.

They were given over to the rescue services quickly enough. He looked out of the window and could see the way the adults, or older teenagers got carted off in dark, armored vans instead. He bit his tongue, made himself smaller, made his eyes as big as they could go. He delivered a quick punch to the boy next to him, so that instead of hatred there were tears in his eyes the next time one of their “rescuers” looked.

When they got to their destination, they got clothed and fed and put into a group home. He walked up to one of the women organising it and asked in the smallest voice he could muster, trying to think of what he sounded like, before, if they all could share rooms only with each other. He tried to put a waver in his voice, when he quietly answered _nightmares_ when asked about the reason.

It must have worked – there were no other children with them. Which was good. They didn't have to pretend behind closed doors and he could make sure everyone knew how they were expected to act. _He_ hadn't let go of his last hidden knife after all.

He heard a lot of people talking about the “poor children” in the weeks after that, about the ordeal they must have gone through , about the monsters the rebels had been. But he knew it wouldn't take much longer until they got over the shock, until someone with a bit less empathy put two and two together.

Until someone would look at the undisturbed huts with the dead adults inside, until someone slipped up, until the blood on their hands would become too obvious to ignore, until their small bodies couldn't hide the soldiers inside.

He looked at the boys with him, the ones he'd fought with, the nightmares they _did_ have and he thought of the dark armoured vans. And so, the boy who had been Soran took the things he'd learned from Ali Al-Sacheez and made them his – and he _lied._

He told the story of the men who came in and killed their families. He told it again and again to the caretakers, to the police, to the investigators. He told it to the other boys, over and over before they went to sleep.

Every day, every night, until they believed it. Until some of them woke up because their nightmares were suddenly about men coming in the night and killing everyone. Until they could look at the adults with tears in their eyes, recounting the horrors that never happened.

(The boy who used to be Soran made sure _he_ didn't forget. He held the picture of his mother pleading for her life in front of his eyes, when he told the stories. It was important he remembered, that _someone_ remembered. This was who he had been. This was the choice he had made. This was the building block he needed to take to be better.)

 

* * *

**_2\. You've been waiting long enough_ **

The best part of joining Celestial Being was being as close as possible to the Gundam. He learned everything possible about the maintenance, about each minute detail, not only because he needed to know, to _understand_ , but also because that way he could claim he'd fallen asleep after maintenance, instead of saying that sometimes, only the cockpit of Exia made him feel safe.

The second best part, was how no one tried to call him by the name he'd lost the right to. Here he was Setsuna F. Seiei, here that was all anyone needed him to be. He'd been part of a group before, an organization but Celestial Being wasn't quite like that.

Sometimes it surprised him how similar this feeling of camaraderie was to something he almost knew. It made him wake up in cold sweat, sometimes.

Thankfully, Sumeragi-san was as different as you could get from _him._ Setsuna liked her. She was loud and boisterous and drank too much, but she was also competent and kind, in a practical way. She let him stay on the bridge much longer than he was needed there, let him blend in the background and just soak in the chatter and _life_.

So he'd mostly resigned himself to her casual touches. It wasn't too bad from her, definitely better than anything else before, but it wasn't _comfortable_.

But while he could tell Lichty or Tieria to stop touching him, because they were his _equals_ , he couldn't do the same with the person in command. He understood, _knew_ , that he couldn't stop someone from doing anything if they had power over him, if they had something he _wanted_.

And he _wanted_ Exia, _needed_ her. And Sumeragi-san was the one who could take her away. And at the end of the day, controlling the instinctive flinch when she hung an arm around his neck or the reflexive need to move away when she touched his hand to get his attention was a small sacrifice indeed.

Tieria Erde could scoff at him all he liked, as long as Veda and Sumeragi-san agreed, the Gundam was _his._

So really, it hadn't been a problem at all, barely a blip on his radar. The _problem_ , the reason he was sitting here right now, was that Sumeragi-san had _seen_ him snap at Lockon. She was clever, too intelligent not to immediately go over every interaction they've had and find the contradiction.

“Are you afraid of me Setsuna-kun?” she asked finally, breaking the silence.

“No, Sumeragi-san.” He tried to inject as much honesty as he could into his voice. It seemed to work, because the vaguely lost look in her eyes got replaced by calculation.

“Then why?” He considered playing dumb for a moment, but quickly disregarded it. It wouldn't get him far, for one, and also Sumeragi-san deserved better from him. Just because _he_ had taught him the value of a lie, didn't mean he didn't hate it. _This_ , this place, where Exia was, deserved more consideration than that.

“You could take my Gundam away.” Sumeragi-san looked as if she'd expected that answer, nodding.

“Do you think I would?” Setsuna shrugged. He wasn't the best at judging what people would do – the important part was that she _could._ It didn't mean she would, he knew that, but it was still there, unspoken in the air, every time she casually asked him for something.

And normally he'd take the chance, but this, Exia, was too important to risk, for anything. Better to be safe than sorry.

He didn't like the conflict on her face. She'd always been a good commander, a good _person_. It made him feel _something_ to see her be so unsure.

“I don't mind it too much with you?” he finally offered, wishing he could say it better, what it meant to him that she'd supported his nomination, that really if anybody was to hold this power over him again, he was grateful it was someone like her.

“Mind what?” He kept the urge to squirm only barely in check which hadn't happened for years, but …. she'd asked him a question.

“Being powerless.” He had to look away, couldn't watch the something moving behind her eyes, kept his hands from clenching, from wrapping around himself. This was why he hated self reflection, he thought idly. But, while he'd been many things, a coward had never been one of them.

The silence stretched between them and normally Setsuna wasn't one to mind that, but it hurt seeing Sumeragi-san so unsure with him, seeing her fidget, seeing the longing for the numbness of alcohol in her gaze.

“Do you trust me?” she finally asked, only resolve in her voice. He shrugged again. Trust was such a nebulous concept. It could mean anything.

“No, that's not going to be enough this time. I need a real answer.” He sat up straighter instinctively, reacting to the command in her voice.

“What does that mean?” he asked, because if she needed a real answer he would give her the most truthful one he could, but for that he needed to _know_. And she'd told him right after he'd joined Celestial Being, right after his first mission, where he hadn't asked for more information on the target and it had blown up in his face, that he should always,  _always_ ask.

She took some time to answer, finally settling on, “Do you trust my word? Do you believe that I'm going to keep to it?” This he could answer, it was even easier than he thought.

“I trust you.” If this was trust for her, then he'd already shown it to her, asking questions, showing initiative, borrowing her books, because she'd said it was alright to do this, to take these liberties with her.

Sumeragi-san let out a breath he hadn't been aware she'd been holding in. “Well, that's good, that makes this much easier.”

She caught his eyes and said: “Setsuna F. Seiei. Barring orders from above, I will **never** take your Gundam away from you.”

It hit him with a force of a hammer, leaving him breathless. “Never?”

“It's **yours** _ **,**_ Setsuna. It's not mine to take away. And I trust you with it.” and there was a terrible sympathy in her voice, her eyes.

“You promise?” he asked in the voice of someone much younger, of someone he hadn't been for years, Soran asking his older sister to reassure him that there weren't any monsters under the bed.

“I promise.”

Only when she'd left him, did he notice the tears drying on his cheek.

* * *

 _ **3**_. **_Can you imagine_**

Lockon was an enigma to Setsuna. He just didn't seem to be _damaged_ enough to be a Meister. Setsuna had no illusions about himself or anyone else – as much as he enjoyed being part of Celestial Being _no one_ joined an international terror organization, because they were _happy_ with the world.

He didn't understand what this cheerful, carefree person was doing with them. Even most of the support staff, you could see the fissure, the scar lines running through their smiling faces.

The first time he'd nearly walked into Feldt and for a second _terror_ was written on her face, when he'd found Lichty crying in the dark, saw Allelujah argue with himself, Tieria stiffly holding himself apart from everyone – it made him calm, he could understand this, it fit. 

So a part of him was almost glad when Johann revealed their connection. The pure anger, the _hatred_ disguised as calm in Lockon's voice, it settled something in him, it _hurt,_ but it was familiar at least, the gun in his face a much more comfortable sight than the previous offers of friendship had been.

He liked Lockon, respected him, so he gave him the truth, gave him Ali's name, which tasted like ash in his mouth, the same way lies always did. He wasn't going to give up his Gundam, but he knew, he understood that it wasn't his decision to make this time.

He'd learned before that lies could buy him his life and he'd done it, because there were other lives in the balance, but it was wrong, the reassurance, the gentle warmth he'd gotten from it, it felt like nothing, it burned him on the inside.

It turned out, Setsuna realised, as he listened to Lockon's laughter ringing through the little forest, that truth could buy something infinitely better than just existence.

* * *

 

_**4. I'm lost but I'm hopeful** _

Tieria had changed. It was such an unnecessary thing to realize, because they had all changed. They'd grown older, shaped by their experience.

But Setsuna realised that he hadn't expected Tieria to change and yet. Maybe it was because out of all of them he _looked_ the same. It had been like being transported back 4 years, coming back on the bridge, seeing him there looking at him.

But the image had warped immediately, because this Tieria didn't scowl and look away. This Tieria sent him a respectful little nod. It had thrown him. It kept throwing him every time Tieria asked for his input, defended his decisions with Saji, stood up for him.

It wasn't _unpleasant_ , it was just – unexpected.

“You are looking at me again.” Tieria said from the back seat. He'd turned away from him, looking out the window contemplatively. “Does it look that weird?”

It did and it didn't, the make up making Tieria's face look more delicate, the long hair giving him an elegance he normally didn't have. But that wasn't why he had been looking, so he shook his head.

“But you don't deny looking.” Tieria stated more than asked, so Setsuna saw no need to reply. In some ways Tieria had always been easy to him. Even when they'd been at odds with each other, there was a stubborn core to him, a simple straight forward mind that he could relate to. They'd always been good with silences.

“Why?” So that had changed too. He never used to care about Setsuna's reasons.

“Why do you want to know now?” Because if he had noticed now, he'd noticed before, when there wasn't the need to only throw glances through a mirror.

“Do I need a reason?” The Tieria he remembered, always had a reason, always _needed_ a reason. It was another thing that was different now.

“You've changed.” he finally said, changing the lane, making sure he was going exactly as fast as was allowed.

“We've all changed.” Tieria replied with a scoff, unconsciously mirroring Setsuna's previous thought. He couldn't _quite_ suppress the tiny laugh that escaped him at that.

“ _You've_ changed.” he said with meaning, weight behind it. Setsuna could feel his gaze on the back of his head. The intensity, at least, had not changed.

“Aa.” Because it was true. Or at least Setsuna hoped it was. The old him lost, the old Celestial Being had lost. They needed to be different.

“I don't see you watching anyone else as much, though.” Tieria continued, like a dog with a bone. This could go into the 'did not change' column as well then – he could never be dissuaded from a point he felt he needed to make in the past either, even though then it had more to do with Setsuna's worth as a Gundam Meister.

“You've changed the most.” But that was not quite right. Tieria let out a disbelieving snort. So what was it, that was different with him. What was the reason he had been scrutinizing him any time he could, that had brought him up short, every time Tieria talked to him now without antagonism.

“I didn't expect you to change.” he said finally. It wasn't quite right, wasn't quite everything, but it was as close to the truth as he could get. It felt right, saying it, though he didn't know why he hadn't expected him to change. Even at the end, 4 years ago he had been different after all.

“Is it disappointing?” Tieria asked, throwing it out like a challenge.

“No, not disappointing, just – unexpected.” It seemed like he hadn't changed that much, after all. On his own he got a bit better at speaking with people, had to, but it still didn't come easy to him.

He couldn't explain it better than that. He hadn't thought much about how everyone was, in those four years, mostly because he couldn't know who would even be alive. But seeing Tieria, speaking with him, it had shocked him. He didn't know why he'd thought that he'd stay the same, but somehow he _had_.

The silence settled over them and Tieria really had changed, because he was the one breaking the silence. “Why did you not expect it?”

“I - ,” he concentrated on his hands on the wheel, ordering the words in his head, “You've changed. It's good. A good change. It's – it suits you.” He carefully refused to look at Tieria's face, hoping the blush did not show. Really this was way he didn't like talking too much, he thought to himself ruefully.

“The dress?” Setsuna let out an explosive little laugh at that, tension bleeding out of him, Tieria smirking, satisfied in the back seat.

“You were always so confident. Sure of yourself and your place. Immutable.” he continued after a bit.

“And that's changed?” Setsuna shook his head.

“No. It's still there. But you still changed.” He turned off at the highway, the mansion looming before them. It had confused Setsuna that someone could be so much the same and yet so different. “You are you, Tieria Erde, you just chose to act differently.”

It made him, happy maybe. Hopeful. That you could change what you did, change how you acted and yet fundamentally remain yourself. Maybe that was why he found himself looking so often. To see. To always look at the evidence that change didn't have to mean giving yourself up.

“So did you.” Tieria said, before getting out of the car, subtly altering his body language in the way Sumeragi-san had taught him.

 

* * *

**_5\. Woke up an optimist_ **

 

“You are too kind, Soran.” his father says with a sigh, carrying him home, scratched up, cradling the exhausted jackal cub in his arms.

He remembers his mother calling him _gentle_ as he shoots her.

*

“He's such a treasure with the other children.” he overhears one of the caretakers in the home they have been put in say, after he patched up someone's scraped knee. He adjusts the knife strapped to his thigh.

*

“He doesn't have what it takes.” they say, as if he's not standing there, as if he's not in the room, as if they aren't deciding to take _his_ Gundam away from him, before he's even had a chance to _have_ it. “Do you really think he can be ruthless enough, Sumeragi-san?”

He turns to the woman at the front of the table, holds his breath. “I don't think more ruthlessness is what we need.” she finally says and he doesn't truly understand what this means, until he's standing in front of Exia, getting read in the security protocols for  _his_ Gundam.

*

“Do you really think you are doing them a favour, letting them go, letting them _live_?!” Tieria Erde snarls at him.

“Oh let off, Tieria, they didn't see us, they don't know anything.” He whirls on Lockon Stratos, spitting out. “How do you know he's going to be able to do it, when it counts?!”

Setsuna stops listening then, the arguments between the two men are familiar to him now in a way the call to morning prayer used to be. He still hears Lockon saying “Kindness is not a _weakness_ , Tieria.”

“For us, it is.”

*

“What a kind young man, you are.” says the old lady whose shopping he's been carrying for 3 blocks now, to escape the looks the police officers trying to find the one who'd broken into the engineering facility had been sending him.

He gives her a smile.

*

“You are gentle.” Marina says. He's re-wrapping her ankle, bandage having slipped while playing with the children.

“I'm a killer.” he replies, because.... Because. It sometimes seems as if Marina is the only one who doesn't know, doesn't understand.

She leans forward, hides her face in his hair. “You are very gentle, Soran.” He thinks he can feel traces of her tears for days afterwards.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If someone can guess what songs the sub-chapter titles are from they win a ficlet of their choice, lmao


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